


Getting Comfortable

by serpentjester



Category: Rhett and Link, Seaborne & Roach
Genre: Anal, Car Sex, M/M, roach and his dumbshit monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentjester/pseuds/serpentjester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seaborne and Roach wait for a suspect to rollerblade by. They pass the time.</p><p>In retrospect, the El Camino is not a very good place for fucking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Comfortable

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote porn (by request) (but let's be real, I'd write porn for anything) for a very obscure series of videos Rhett and Link did back in 2008. It's called _Seaborne and Roach_ , and really the only thing to know is that these two are (kind of awful) detectives. They sit in their car a lot and talk about stuff. This is based off [Episode 5: Taxes on Chicken.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uwHIhkNvUk)
> 
> (Also, because it's hard to tell in the skits - Roach is Rhett, Seaborne is Link.)

Seaborne could feel a vein right above his eyebrow twitch. And it wasn’t just from all the waiting.

They were on hour three of the stakeout and Roach was trailing his fingertips on Seaborne’s knee for a couple of minutes now. Initially he dismissed it as some sort of nervous twitch. A habit of sorts, even. So he just moved his knee out of the way. No big deal.

Except the fingers followed him, stroking up Seaborne’s knee and back down again. Roach was still staring at the window, blank as ever. But Seaborne knew the moment Roach trailed toward his inner thigh, that something was _up._

“What do you think you’re _doing._ ”

Roach turned, blinking slowly. _Playing stupid,_ Seaborne thought. He stared at the other man for a second before shrugging, running his free hand through dirty blonde hair.

“Told you. We might as well get comfortable.” Seaborne didn’t miss the way Roach licked his lower lip, even as his gaze was level. And he still had the audacity to move his hand even _further_ up his thigh, resting right below his belt now. He let out an incredulous laugh, shifting closer.

“Wow. Really. You’re gonna mess around right here. On a _case,_ ” Seaborne snorted. Well. If it was a game Roach wanted, it was a game Roach was going to get. Seaborne moved the other man’s hand right over his crotch, cocking his chin a little. “Take off your glasses for me, would ya.”

Roach swallowed, daring to press down a little at the growing bulge in the other man’s pants before taking off his glasses. Seaborne nodded a little and reached out to trace a finger down his partner’s sandy jaw, over the fine hairs of his chinstrap beard. He tugged Roach forward and met their lips; both men couldn’t help but let out a rumbling moan.

Distantly, Roach thought: _Man, Seaborne’s mustache is a lot less prickly than I thought it would be. It’s almost kind of nice? Like a…like a really high quality fur coat. Just shorter. Too short to make a coat out of, for sure. It would be weird anyways, making a coat out of a guy’s mustache hair - oh jeez -_

When he was petting Seaborne’s thigh a few minutes ago, Roach didn’t think it was gonna go this far. But here he was: pushed into the backseat of their El Camino, being straddled by his partner. A very frustrated partner, judging by the way Seaborne cursed under his breath as he struggled to find a good position.

“-a stupid idea, ugh, the roof of the car just isn’t _built_ for this - _gah._ What am I doing.” 

It seemed like Seaborne finally noticed the man below him, raising an eyebrow but not doing much else. Roach was already hard, face red, and the other man was as put together as ever. He tried to ignore the heat rushing to his cock at the look cast down on him, deciding to arch up into Seaborne instead.

Roach’s hips were pinned down immediately, and damn if the voice growling down at him wasn’t outright commanding:

“You listen to me. If we’re gonna do this,” Seabourne breathed, undoing Roach’s fly with deft fingers, “we’re doing this my way. No grabbing, no dumb jokes, no _bullshit._ ” The car was quiet, save for the clink of belts being undone. He grinded into Roach some, almost as an afterthought, paying no mind to the sharp hiss he let out. There was a job to do.

“What…what are you taking out of the glove compartment?” Roach craned his neck to see, but the room was already blurry enough without his glasses. “Seaborne?”

Roach felt the other man’s hands pet his chest, and leaned into the contact as much as he could. _Gosh,_ Seaborne's hands were warm. He heard something uncap.

“Just lube. Wait. God. Please tell me you’ve done this before-” Roach let out an indignant sound at that, craning his head up to glare at the (blurry) face above him.

“I know what _lube_ is! Uh. Well, why we need it, I mean. For this thing. But you just - you carry lube in the _glove compartment?_ ” Seaborne let out a sigh, breath hitching as he loosened himself up.

“No such thing as being too prepared, Roach. You should know that by now.”

The sight of his partner underneath him, all spread out and vulnerable, made Seaborne feel a little dizzy with power. He was glad he thought to tell Roach to take his glasses off (which he _did,_ jesus, since when does Roach listen to him _and_ do something that fast?) because there was no way Seaborne could keep a cool face while sinking down on Roach's cock. It was a tight fit at first, but something just _slid_ right and suddenly Seaborne was flush against Roach’s lap, eyes shut in concentration.

Roach squeezed at the sides of the car’s leather seats until his knuckles went white, biting back a curse. He was trying very hard not to lose it.

_Okay, jeez, I think I underestimated Seaborne. Christ. This is intense. The position brings up a lot of questions. I mean, he’s on top, but I’m inside him. In a purely academic sense, does that make him the top or me the top-_

“Damn, Roach. You look good like that.” 

_Oh._ That answers that question, then.

Roach opened his eyes, squinting to get a better look at his partner’s face. Seaborne’s eyes were lidded as he bounced on Roach’s lap, grabbing fistfuls of Roach’s shirt and - oh wow, was he still wearing the coat? _That’s dedication._ He didn’t dare reach up and touch him, not when Seaborne was driving down harder and harder. The wet slapping noise of their bodies meeting rang out, and everything was a blur of tightness and skin and _heat._ Seaborne moaned, low and quiet in his chest, before leaning over to get some better leverage. His knees were already starting to burn from keeping himself up so long. He ends up leaning over Roach’s chest, cock bobbing onto his stomach. Why, at this angle, their noses were almost touching.

When Seaborne managed to find the right spot inside him, he grabbed Roach’s hands and slid them to his hips. “Okay, scratch the ‘no touching’ rule, Roach. I - _hff_ \- I need you to - _there_ -”

“Yeah?” Roach murmured, driving his hips up and relishing every second of it. Seaborne was busy stroking himself, eyes shut and mouth parted open. “Like that?”

Seaborne’s shaky nod told him all he needed to know. He drove up faster, harder, actually focused on something for once.

“Ah - oh, _oh,_ Seaborne -”

“What did I say about dumb jokes, Roach?”

“I’m literally just _talking_ \- ahh -”

Roach feels Seaborne come before he hears it, feels the way Seaborne’s body tenses above him before hearing a sharp intake of breath - a second later, both of their chests are kind of sticky and Seaborne lets out the most _glorious_ moan. It didn’t take Roach long after that.

The El Camino was quiet again, save for the two men’s harsh breathing. Seaborne slowly eased himself off, barely managing to catch his breath before he hears the whizz of rollerblades on concrete.

“ _Shit!_ ” he pushed Roach out of the way unceremoniously, whipping his head to catch their suspect in mid-skate. Their eyes locked for a moment and, wow, Seaborne can feel himself being judged. He does not like it one bit. But this is definitely their guy.

Seaborne decides he will deal with the fallout later. For now, he slides into the (ruined) backseat of the El Camino, resting his head on the chest of a very confused Roach.

“We don’t get paid enough for this, man.”


End file.
